


Wildfire

by daisybooboo0260



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybooboo0260/pseuds/daisybooboo0260
Summary: Wildfire is raging in Kings Landing, and Sansa knows her colleague and friend Sandor needs looking after. Will he let her care for him?Bit of plot, then smut. Fluffy smut.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 66





	Wildfire

Sandor was horrendously rude to her, to everybody really. Despite this she liked him, and she wanted to spend more time together. He was a bit like a caged animal, she reckoned, lashing out because he was uncomfortable rather than because there was something inherently evil or hateful deep inside. When he’d let his guard down on the odd occasion, she’d seen that there was a good man under the cloak of anger and grumpiness he wore. He had been the only person to show her any kindness at this awful club, after all, even if it was just walking her to her car after her shift or getting her ice that time an overenthusiastic dancer elbowed her in the face as she collected glasses. She also was fairly sure his influence was the reason that the other bouncers had stopped being quite so gross towards her, Trant hadn’t groped her ass in months, and Blount hadn’t tried to kiss her for several weeks. Even Petyr Baelish, the club’s manager, had been leaving her alone recently. Truly, Sansa thought, Sandor Clegane was a nice person. The fact she found him ridiculously attractive didn’t hurt her opinion on him either. 

All of this explained why Sansa’s first instinct, when the news about the wildfire had been relayed and the club shut down early for the night, was to seek out Sandor, and make sure he was ok. Sandor hated fire. He’d made that abundantly clear one Friday, when Petyr had booked a fire breathing act for the main room. Sandor had lost his shit, storming out and refusing to work if the performance went ahead. Petyr had told her, she thought because he probably wanted to embarrass his head of security, that Sandor’s scars had come from being pushed into a fire by his older brother as a young child. She’d never asked the gruff bouncer if this was true, but he did have extensive scarring across one half of his face. 

Sansa searched the club in the hopes of finding him. She knew he was still here, as his distinctive black pick up truck remained in the parking lot. Drawing a blank in his office, the main club room, the staff changing room, and the smoking area, Sansa decided to head down into the basement, thinking he may have chosen to be as far away from the fire as possible. She walked through the various stock rooms with no luck, before coming to one final closet, inside which she could hear swearing. Sansa knocked on the door. 

“Fuck off” a growling voice shouted back.

“Sandor, it’s me, Sansa” she replied calmly “I need your help with something.” 

She reckoned he wouldn’t take it well if he thought she was pitying him, even though she wasn’t, so she decided to make it seem like she was the one in need. 

“Sansa?” He sounded so very desperate, which pulled at her heart. 

“Yeah it’s me. Can I come in please?” Sansa held her breath, waiting for a barrage of curses. She was surprised however, when just a soft “ok” came back through the door.

Turning the door knob, Sansa opened it a crack and slipped in. The scene that greeted her made her heart ache. Sandor was sat on the floor shaking, head in his hands which were resting against his knees. He was clearly absolutely terrified. She sank to her own knees, approaching him slowly, until she was perched just in front of him. 

She spoke softly “Can I have a hug please Sandor?”

“Have you come to have a good fucking laugh at me huh” he barked from behind his hands “the pathetic dog snivelling and shaking.” 

“Of course not Sandor” she reached out to touch the back of his head, smoothing his hair down with gentle strokes. “I wanted to see if you were okay. You would do the same for me, I know you would.” 

“Leave me alone” he growled “I’m not a good man for fuck’s sake girl, let me suffer in buggering peace.” 

“No” Sansa said firmly “I am not going to do that, besides I really do need your help. You’re the only person I trust here.” She continued to stroke his hair, and it felt like some tension was leaving him. 

“What do you want from me then?” Sandor snarled “need your dog to bark at someone for you, bite at them for the pretty girl?” 

“Please Sandor, I need my friend to give me a hug and then to take me home safely.” Sansa moved closer to him, grasping his hands in hers and trying to get him to look up at her. “My car is in the garage and I was planning to walk home tonight, but that doesn’t seem safe with everything. I was hoping you could give me a ride.” 

Sandor’s head shot up and he looked at her intensely “it wouldn’t have been safe on a normal fucking night” he shouted “stupid girl, were you trying to get yourself killed?” 

“I’m not stupid Sandor, and I’d prefer you didn’t call me that” she brought her thumbs up to wipe away the tears running down his face. He looked admonished, leaning in to her touch. 

“Sorry” he mumbled.

“That’s okay. Probably wasn’t the best idea to walk, but I doubt you would have let me even without all that’s going on” she smiled at him. 

“Probably not” he shrugged. 

“Nope” she moved closer towards him, bringing her arms around his shoulders and pulling his head into the crook of her neck “because even though you try and hide it, I know you care about me Sandor. And I care about you.” She felt him relax into her hold, his breathing starting to slow down. 

“You’re my little bird” he exhaled shakily into her neck.

“Little bird?” She looked down at him, eyebrow raised. 

“With your singing” he mumbled into her hair. 

“I didn’t realise you’d heard that” she blushed, knowing she only sang when she was clearing up after closing time. 

“It’s beautiful” he said simply, making her smile. 

“Gentle Mother, font of mercy” Sansa started singing softly, remembering the hymn her own mother used to sing to her when she was scared. 

“save our sons from war, we pray,   
stay the swords and stay the arrows,   
let them know a better day.” she continued, feeling Sandor relax even more against her. 

“Gentle Mother, strength of women,   
help our daughters through this fray,   
soothe the wrath and tame the fury,   
teach us all a kinder way.” 

She continued stroking his back as she sang, holding him close, enjoying the feel of his strong, warm body against her own. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other. His arms had come up around Sansa’s body, pulling her onto his lap so that they were pressed closely together. Her head came to rest on top of his, which was buried into her neck. It felt right, being intertwined with him. 

After a few minutes, his head pulled back and he looked up at Sansa. He was still looking scared, but his shaking had subdued and he was no longer crying. 

“You want a ride home?” He cocked his head. 

She nodded “yes please, if that’s okay”. 

“Of course it’s fucking okay little bird” he chuckled, the sound of his laughter glorious in her ears. 

“We’ll get through this together” she stroked his scarred cheek.

He nodded. “You got anything you need to do before we go?”

“Will just need to grab my stuff from the locker room” she replied “what about you?” 

“Need to go see if Baelish wants me to do anything before heading off” he looked dismayed.

“Want me to come with you to see him?” She offered. 

“Don’t need your pity” he growled, but without any real force behind it.

“Let’s not start that again you oaf” she playfully tapped him on the shoulder “come on, the sooner we see him and grab our stuff, the sooner we can head home”. 

He nodded reluctantly in agreement and allowed her to pull him up to standing. She was always awed at just how big this man was, he stood almost a foot taller than her and was so very broad in comparison. It wasn’t like Sansa was petite either, she stood at 5ft8 and was nicely curvy. He was just that big. She liked it, it made her feel safe. She also realised how good it felt that she had been able to comfort him and look after him for a change, she just hoped he’d let her continue doing so. 

She held on to this hand as they made their way through the club to Petyr’s office. His fingers were interlaced between hers, their warmth radiating up her hand and arm into her chest. He turned to her as they stood outside Baelish’s door, looking like he didn’t know whether to lash out or run away. She stroked her thumb against the back of his hand and gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’m here, don’t worry.” 

He nodded, steeling himself, standing taller and straighter, then opening the door and walking in, bringing Sansa with him by their joined hands. 

Petyr was sat at his desk, drinking a glass of amber liquid. His eyes flitted to where Sansa’s delicate hand was held inside Sandor’s, a sneer coming across the manager’s face. 

“I’ve been looking for you Clegane” he opened “where have you been?”

Sansa could feel Sandor tense next to her, an outburst brewing. Whilst she rather enjoyed the though of Creepy Petyr being snarled at, she knew their exit would be smoother if she played Baelish at his own charming game instead. 

“Oh Petyr, it’s all my fault” she said, playing up to an exaggerated damsel in distress role “Sandor was having to comfort me, I don’t like this whole fire situation.”

Petyr’s eyes narrowed. She could sense he didn’t like the fact she was stood with Sandor, or that she was giving him an excuse. “Is that so Miss Stark, very well then. Clegane I need you to stay here and make sure the club is protected. Hooligans always use a distraction like a wildfire to loot businesses, and we can’t have damage to our property you see.” Petyr looked extremely pleased at himself, thinking he had found a way of punishing Sandor.

Sansa knew there was no way she was going to leave Sandor here, that she needed him to come with her. She turned her damsel act up a notch, sticking out her bottom lip and making it wobble. 

“Sandor can’t stay here Mr. Baelish” she trembled “I need him to take me home and make sure I’m safe. You couldn’t do it Petyr, I couldn’t ask you to risk driving towards the fire for me, you’re too special for that. I don’t trust any of the other bouncers to do it you see, and I don’t have my car so I need a ride home. You know my mother would hate it if I felt unsafe, don’t you. I’d hate to have to tell her you made my friend, the only friend I felt safe with, stay here instead of getting me home.” Sansa played her trump card. Petyr was an old friend of her mother’s, who he had been in love with for years, and who he still believed he had a chance with. He would do anything to avoid Sansa giving a bad impression of him to her mother, she reckoned. The look of disgust on his face confirmed it, she’d out manoeuvred him. 

“No I suppose she wouldn’t be happy about that.” He conceded, a sour taste apparent in his mouth “and I did promise her I’d look out for you. Clegane, you’re to take Miss Stark here home and ensure she is safe. I’ll ask Holland to stay and keep watch.” He gestured towards his door, indicating for the pair to leave. 

“Thank you Uncle Petyr, I’ll be sure to tell my mother how good you have been to me” Sansa preened overly sweetly. 

Sandor pulled her back out of his office, a stormy look in his eyes. She shook herself, trying to get rid of the dirty feeling Petyr always gave her. 

“Ugh” she spat “he’s such a creep. Sorry for taking over, I just wanted to get that conversation done with as quickly as possible.” 

“I don’t like how he looks at you” Sandor growled “how you change when you talk to him.” 

“It’s not pleasant for me either Sandor, but it’s got the job done” she shrugged “now take me home, please?” 

He took a deep breath and nodded. They quickly grabbed their bags from the locker room, before heading out to the parking lot. The sky was already orange and the air smoggy from the raging fires in the Kingswood. Sandor stopped abruptly as they stepped out of the building, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Sansa stood on her tip-toes, bringing a hand up to the back of his head and forcing him to look down at her. 

“Focus on me Sandor” she said firmly.

“Look at me” his panicked eyes locking on to her own “it cannot hurt us Sandor, we are okay. We will get through this together.” 

The big man nodded, grasping on to her arm like his life depended on it. His strong grip was bruising, but she was just glad he was relying on her. 

She guided him across the lot to his truck, looking up at him and asking “Are you able to drive or would you like  
me to?” 

Wordlessly, he reached into his pocket and handed her the keys, opening the driver-side door for her and then going round and climbing in the passenger seat. After adjusting everything for her much shorter arms and legs, Sansa got the engine started and headed for home. 

They drove in silence, Sandor with his eyes closed and head resting against the glass. Whenever they pulled to a stop, at lights or in traffic, Sansa placed a hand on his large thigh, squeezing it in reassurance. Thankfully, the journey was not a long one, and soon Sansa was guiding the large truck into a spot in her apartment building’s underground parking. Sandor sat upright as they came to a stop, appearing a little calmer now that they were inside. 

“You’re coming in with me, no arguments” Sansa ordered “I don’t want to be alone and I don’t think you do either.” 

He shook his head “You’re not doing this because you fucking pity me?” his eyes looked so vulnerable, she wanted to cry. 

“No Sandor, I care for you” she stroked his face in reassurance “now come on, I need a drink”. 

They made their way up to her small apartment hand in hand. Once inside, she took his jacket and shoes off him, along with her own, and pushed him to sit down on the sofa, before heading in to the kitchen and pouring them two large glasses of brandy.

“Here, you look like you need this” she offered as she handed him a glass. He drank it in one go, whilst she sipped on hers slowly, coming to sit next to him on the sofa. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, rubbing his arm. He shook his head and then brought it down to rest in his hands. 

“I’m scared little bird” he said so quietly, she barely heard it. 

“I know” she soothed “but we are safe here, I promise. Come here” she took the glass out of his hand, and placed them both on the coffee table before pulling him in to her arms. She sat back on the sofa so that he was laying on her, his head coming to rest in her lap. He brought his legs up onto the couch, curling his body into her. Her hands came to stroke his hair, as she whispered soothing words. 

She had no idea how long they stayed like this, but eventually she must have fallen asleep. When she woke, Sandor was laying on his back, head still in her lap, looking directly at her. He seemed less panicked than earlier, his eyes appearing full of wonder almost. 

“You look like you’re feeling a bit better?” She asked softly. 

“Yeah” he nodded, looking ashamed. 

“There’s nothing to feel bad about Sandor, it’s okay to be scared of things. Thank you for letting me look after you” she brought her fingers to his cheek, tracing the scars gently. 

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but nevertheless, what he did next surprised her. He brought a hand up slowly to the back of her head, pulling her down towards him and then pressing the sweetest, most gentle kiss to her lips. She stiffened slightly in shock, and he pulled back. 

“Fuck” he tried to move away “you’re just being fucking nice to me and I paw all over you like a fucking dog.” 

She grabbed onto him tightly, holding his face and bringing her lips to his in a more forceful kiss. “Sandor” she whispered against his mouth “I was just surprised, kiss me please. I want you to kiss me”. 

He sat up on the sofa, running his hands through her hair. Their lips met in a passionate crash, moving firmly across each other’s mouths. She felt his tongue run along her bottom lip, seeking entrance. Tilting her head slightly, she granted him better access, moaning as he plundered her. His taste was intoxicating, the brandy mixed with lingering smoke from a cigarette and the sharp freshness of mint. She wanted more, her tongue running alongside his now, battling him for dominance. 

He broke away for a heavy breath, their eyes meeting in an intense, smouldering gaze. Her hands moved to his stomach, caressing the hard planes of his abs. She moved to undo the buttons of his dark shirt, wanting to see his chest and feel his bare skin against hers. As she was doing this, his lips came to nuzzle her neck, nipping at the soft skin and making her shiver in pleasure. Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, her fingers ran through the thick hair on his chest and stomach, pulling slightly. He moaned at this, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful little bird” he rasped “want to hear you sing”. 

She nodded shakily. “Please Sandor” she implored. 

It was like her words broke him out of a daze, as he dove onto her, kissing her all over on every inch of available skin. His mouth ran down her neck, suckling at her pulse point before moving to plant butterfly kisses down her arms and across her exposed stomach. His fingers came to rest on the hem of her shirt, his eyes looking up at her asking permission. She brought her fingers down and helped him drag her shirt up, exposing her pale torso and lacy bra. 

He groaned, the sound sending thrills of arousal across her body. His mouth came down over a breast, teasing an erect nipple through the lace, making her moan and arch her back, her hands grasping his hair and pulling him closer. 

He moved to her other breast, nipping at the exposed skin above the cup before sucking her bud between his lip, laving it with his tongue. Each suckle went directly to Sansa’s core, heightening her desire. Sandor continued his ministrations until she was writing underneath him, desperate for him to address her burning needs. 

He kissed his way up her chest, paying particular attention to her collar bones, nibbling at her delicate skin until it bloomed. Coming nose to nose, his hands wound in her auburn locks, turning her head so that he could take her earlobe between his lips. The pull of his mouth and warmth of his breath caused goosebumps to prickle all over Sansa’s exposed body.

He whispered into her ear “God I want to fuck you Sansa”.

She moaned in response, bucking her hips up into him.

“But I’m no good at taking it slow, don’t want to hurt you” he continued, nuzzling into her neck.

She turned to look him directly in the eye. “I don’t need you to take it slow Sandor, I just want you to take me.” She kissed him hard. “Please.” 

“Fucking hells woman” he grabbed her by the waist, standing up and adjusting so his arms were under her ass, holding him against her with her legs wrapped around him. “The bedroom?” He asked, between kisses. 

“End of the hall” she gestured before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for more searing kisses. 

He carried her as if she was weightless, shoving open the bedroom door and laying her down carefully on her bed. Her long auburn hair fanned out around her, contrasting so beautifully with the paleness of her skin. He looked down at her reverently, tracing up and down her arms with a tanned finger. She needed him closer, now. 

“Sandor, please” she moaned, reaching up for him. 

He let her pull his weight down on top of her, their bare chests pressed fully together. His coarse hair tickled her nipples, making her giggle. Each giggle turned into a moan as his lips found the pulse point on her neck, making that skin bloom as her collarbones already did. She felt his hands fumbling with the buttons on her jeans, eventually releasing them and pushing both them and her underwear down and over her feet. 

She sat up and reached around to undo her bra, exposing herself completely to his gaze. He looked at her with awestruck eyes, leaning down and planting a loving, open mouthed kiss to the underside of each breast. She pulled on his hair, bringing his lips back to her own. 

“Feel so good” she murmured against his lips “want more”. 

He shuddered in her arms. “Going to give you more little bird”. 

He stood back off the bed, undoing his own pants and pushing them down, bringing his tight boxer briefs into view. Sansa’s mouth watered at the sight of his erection straining against the grey cotton, it was so big and hard, promising to fill her up just right. She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed on her knees, cupping his member in her small hand. It felt so hot and heavy, even through a layer of material. She stroked firmly up and down, letting out a squeak when he pushed her back down onto the bed. 

“If you keep doing that little bird, this is all going to be over before it’s started” he growled. 

The idea that her touch, that she, had so much power over this mountain of man thrilled Sansa, making her rub her thighs together in excitement. 

Sandor took one of her legs in each hand, slowly spreading them apart, placing kisses against her ankles. She felt her folds blossoming open, the molten core of her arousal against the cool evening air. He groaned into her skin as he gazed at her pink centre, already slick for him. 

“So fucking beautiful Sansa” he murmured as his kisses moved up her legs, alternating, from her ankles to the inside of her knees, up her inner thighs, until his mouth was hovering over her most intimate area. 

“Want to taste your pretty pink cunt” he exhaled, locking eyes to ask permission “please little bird.”

“Yes Sandor” she moaned, pushing herself towards his mouth. 

He ran his flat tongue across her centre from top to bottom repeatedly, starting slowly and increasing in speed and pressure with each lick. Every lave ended with a slight flick to her nub, enough to fuel the flames of her arousal but not enough to provide any relief. Her hips started to move against him, trying to get more pressure where she needed it. His hands held her still, his lapping paused. 

He brought his lips to her folds in an open mouthed kiss, moving up until he was directly over her desperate clit. His eyes looked up at her, and holding her gaze, he sucked softly, drawing her most sensitive spot into him and making sharp white pleasure shoot out across her body. 

She felt him smirk against her as she screamed out in bliss. He continued pulling her nub between his lips for a few seconds before using his tongue to collect her juices, spreading them across her folds. He would dip down into her entrance then massage up her labia, finishing with circular strokes around her apex, making her grind against his face. 

She could feel her peak building deep in her core, each pass of his mouth bringing her closer to the edge. Her whimpers were getting more needy, and Sandor seemed to realise she was almost there. He focussed his attentions more directly on her clitoris, adding in flicking licks from side to side to the ongoing rounded strokes. 

His fingers moved from where they were gripping her hip to lightly caressing her entrance. One finger plunged slowly into her, rough callouses creating delicious friction against her inner walls. He brought a second digit to join the first, the slight stretch making her groan, then a curling of his fingertips bringing a loud wail of pleasure as he found the spongy knot on her front surface. Timing his rubs of this spot with firm, insistent licks of her nub heightened the rush of Sansa’s release. Each perfectly coordinated movement pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She was shoved over and into a crashing wave of pure ecstasy when he started humming against her, the vibrations against her folds the last bit of stimulation she needed to explode. 

She screamed his name as she came, toes curling with the intensity. “Oh Sandor”.

Her head snapped back against the bed, one of her hands coming to grab onto her hair. He didn’t stop his attentions when she started orgasming, instead helping her ride through her pleasure with the strokes of his fingers and the nibbles of his lips. As the aftershocks of her release slowed, she pulled on his hair, wanting to kiss him, to taste herself on him. 

Their lips met in a clash of teeth. She tasted musky and sweet on his tongue, finding the idea that he was coated in her arousal thrilling.

Sansa knew she wanted him inside her fully, filling him up. “Need you Sandor” she moaned against him. 

“Mm love how needy you are” he growled, sucking her lower lip between his teeth. 

“Got condoms in the drawer” she gestured to her bedside table. 

He reached over, his long arms meaning he didn’t have to move from between her hips. A foil packet was luckily sat right at the top. He grabbed it as he shoved his boxer shorts down his thighs. Sansa took it from his grasp, ripping it open with her teeth and then leaning down to roll it over his erect length. He hissed at the contact with her hand, thrusting against the friction.

As soon as the last inch of latex unfurled, he captured both her hands with one of his, holding them above her head so that she was pinned against the bed, legs spread wide. With his other hand, he guided his covered cock through her soaked folds, gathering lubrication. 

“Already feels so fucking good” he rasped, staring into her eyes. She could only moan in response, the feeling of his hot head against her sensitive flesh intoxicating. 

“Take me Sandor” she whimpered “please”. 

That was all he needed to hear, seemingly. He used his hand to line up with her pulsating core, before slowly entering her. His hard length slid smoothly into her warm, welcoming cunt, not stopping until he was seated fully inside her. The stretch around his huge girth burned in the best possible way. Sansa felt every inch of her walls being caressed, she’d never felt more fulfilled. Just as she thought it couldn’t get any better, he started to pull backwards. Her lips gripped his shaft creating the most thrilling friction. She felt him shuddering with his own pleasure, the thought of him finding this as arousing as she did turning her on even more. 

Sandor found a steady pace with his thrusts, pentetrating fully with each stroke and then pulling out almost all the way. Sansa could barely breathe from the intense pleasure he was giving her with every movement of his hips, his hands coming to tease her nipples as he ploughed into her again and again. She realised another release was quickly building, something she had never experienced before just from penetration. Gods he felt good. 

Sensing she was close again, Sandor tilted her hips and pushed her legs back against her, so her feet were almost at her head. From this angle, every snap of his hips was driving his pelvis against her clit, which he made even better by grinding slightly each time he bottomed out, causing an ecstatic moan to slip through her lips. This motion also rubbed against a spot deep inside which made Sansa squirm, intense pressure making her feel like she was melting from inside out. She hadn’t known sex could feel this good, or maybe it was just that only sex with Sandor was this amazing. His cock felt like it was made for her, designed to fill her in a way no one else could. 

“So close Sansa” he groaned “need you to come for me little bird”. 

The sounds of pleasure he made were sinful, sending further shocks of arousal through her core. He brought his thumb down to her nub, stroking her firmly from side to side. Sansa came screaming his name almost instantly, feeling her cunt clench rapidly against his invading cock. 

This sent Sandor over the edge himself. His thrusts became erratic, pumping in and out almost fully before a final plunge. His weight collapsed onto her as he exploded deep inside, her arms holding him as he shuddered through his release. 

They stayed like that for several minutes, sweat pouring off their bodies, breathing ragged, hearts pounding. Sansa placed sweet kisses all over his face and neck before landing on his lips, which captured hers in a long sultry embrace. 

Eventually, he slowly withdrew his softening member from Sansa’s core, the friction a beautiful reminder of their passion. He dealt with the condom, standing up and taking it through to the bathroom. Sansa stretched languidly across the bed, revelling in the afterglow of her bliss, making the most of the opportunity to ogle Sandor’s perfect bum. 

Sandor came back seconds later, but hesitated at getting in bed with her, looking anxious once again. 

“What’s wrong?” Sansa asked, sitting up. 

He looked down at his feet “So you probably want me to make a move.” 

She laughed, he really was dense sometimes. His eyes shot up, stricken with hurt. 

“Oh Sandor, who’s being stupid now!” She exclaimed “I don’t want you to leave, I want you to come and cuddle me please, and then I want to fall asleep in your arms and then wake up together, and have brunch, and I want you to never think I don’t want you again. I want you to stay, Sandor, please. If you want to”.

Sandor nodded, looking like he was struggling to believe her but also like he was about to cry.

“I want to stay with you” he mumbled and he climbed into bed next to her, curling his body around hers. 

“Good” she smiled “because you’re wanted here my love. Not going to let you go.” 

Their lips met in a slow, soft, kiss, which continued until they fell asleep, bodies and hearts intertwined. The wildfire blazed across the water, but Sansa and Sandor were safe because they were together. They were home.


End file.
